


Like A Blade In The Eyes

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Hallucinations, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Obsessive Behavior, Psychosis, Ramwood centric, Self-Medication, Trichitillomania, Twitching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5102771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What people don't understand is that Ryan needs to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. DISCLAIMER

Hello, Carson here. I want to put this here in case anything goes wonky with this.

This story includes mental illness. Some examples are sensory processing disorder, trichitillomania, psychosis, and obsessive compulsive disorder dealing around obsessive movements.

I have dealt with all of these...to an extent.

OCD and I are well acquainted, as am I with trich. I have some experience with SPD dealing with loud noises. With psychosis, I might have more trouble. I have not been nor am I saying that I have ever been victim to psychosis. I have, however dealt with auditory hallucinations, and that will be what's in this.

If I do anything wrong, or if anything is incorrect or offensive, I would like you to tell me and correct me about it. I want this to be an interesting story to read, not something that triggers you or anything.


	2. O N E

The city of Los Santos doesn't know the meaning of the word 'rest'. It's always bustling with energy, from civilians during the day and gangs during the night.

The penthouse was quiet. With the 6 people living within it's walls, it was unsettling. Most of them were sleeping; a day's worth of running from cops and stealing shit could really take a lot out of you. One of them, shrouded in shadows and moonlight, was wide awake, stalking back and forth through the living room.

The effulgence caught his blonde hair and blue eyes and played off his tanned skin. A leather jacket was hanging from his shoulders, a sub machine gun in one hand and a black skull mask in the other. He tugged the mask on, his right shoulder twitching up as he walked to the door of the penthouse. As he entered the elevator to the garage, he grinned.

Los Santos was about to get a little more restless.


	3. T W O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late Thanksgiving and early Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/whatever you chose to celebrate! Anyway, enjoy!-Leighton

He was shaking with laughter. That's all he really knew.

Fire burned around him, half-exploded overturned cars turned into bonfires and corpses had long since turned into fuel. The heat felt nice on his skin, the gun's weight familiar and comforting in his hand.

He could see the police lights, hear the sirens and the helicopter blades churning through the air above him.

He was cackling now, the hysterics racking through his body. His vision was beginning to be blurred by the smoke and ash around him. He could hear people yelling and gunshots as the cops fired at him. He could barely register the hand wrapping around his wrist, being pulled back, someone pushing him into the backseat of a car.

"GO, GO, GO! C'MON JACK WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!" He recognized the scream as Michael's. The voices were laughing along with him, reveling in the glory of the destruction around him. They praised him, praised the chaos he had caused at their whim. He slammed back into the seat as Jack accelerated violently, mowing down several cops in her haste to get them out of the fray. A comforting weight surrounded him, an arm wrapped around his waist with a face buried in his neck, another face next to his other ear, whispering words of comfort as a mustache brushed his cheek. His hands were held down, one of them trying to stop the aggressive picking and scratching he subconsciously did as his nails dug against his skin. He barely registered Jeremy hanging off the side of the Roosevelt as he sprayed bullets at the cops.

At least they didn't put him in handcuffs.

The drive back to the penthouse seemed longer than it was, like it lasted hours instead of the few minutes. Ryan could feel who he thought was Jack manhandling him into the elevator and press him up against the wall. As his vision began clearing, he saw it was Geoff, with a very concerned Jeremy hovering behind the older man's shoulder. His calloused hands burned against Ryan's shoulders, the heat soaking into his skin through his jacket, shirt, and body armor. It was only when he saw the tears in his boyfriends' eyes that he realized he was bleeding.

 _"I guess the LSPD worked on their aim since the last time this happened,'_ was all that passed Ryan's mind before the world started growing fuzzy around him.

**Author's Note:**

> If I get anything wrong, let me know.  
> Tumblr: bodymodsandblood  
> Wattpad: paralyticstates


End file.
